By Chris Cosci

My first car was a Mitsubishi Precis. It was about the size of a golf cart, but with a slightly higher maximum speed. It was a Matchbox car with delusions of grandeur. When I finally got rid of that, I got something even smaller - a Ford Festiva. The Festiva could be easily stored in a breadbox, but the gas mileage was great. After that, I bought a Nissan Sentra, which is my current car. While bigger than the Precis and the Festiva, the Sentra is still a relatively small car compared to some of the monstrosities found on the roads these days.

Perhaps it's my comfort with smaller cars, but I find some of these large trucks to be overbearing. Americans are obsessed with big things. We have to have our large-screen TVs, our fries need to be super-sized, and men like to brag about having big... feet.

But it's with cars that people seem the most infatuated. In the 1950s and 1960s, the popular cars were Cadillacs the size of whales. The 1980s saw a rash of "monster" trucks with over-sized tires and jacked-up suspension. More recently, the trend has been to take vehicles designed to withstand military operations and manufacture them for the driving public. People put down a lot of money for Hummers, the closest one can get to actually owning a tank (minus the cannons).

But despite its indestructible reputation, the Hummer only has four measly wheels, which just doesn't cut it these days. If you really want to be at the height of style, the hottest trucks are the "super duty" ones with dual rear tires. Not only do the dual rear tires raise the total to six, but the extra width requires an extended body, making the actual truck bigger as well.

While the owners of these colossal vehicles are in their own dreamland, those of us who drive within two feet of the ground are at a disadvantage. We'll be happily driving along, without a care in the world, when one of these extra-large trucks pulls up next to us, blocking out the sun and leaving us in its cold, dark shadow.

Then they'll pull in front of us, obliterating our view of stop lights, traffic signs, and the sky. With the world eclipsed around us, we have two options to find out what's ahead. The first is to get out of our car at a stop light and walk around the truck. The second is to give up on our car and buy a larger truck. Of course, once you buy a larger truck, someone else will come around with an even larger truck. Then you'll have to get one larger than that, and eventually everyone will be driving around in four-story vehicles with twenty tires.

What makes things even more difficult is that parking lot spaces all stay the same size. The space on either side of these mega-trucks keeps getting smaller and smaller. It's bad enough that there are some people who can't even park a bicycle without crossing the line; now we're giving them wider cars.

For the most part, this is an American phenomenon. In other countries, particularly in Europe, cars are more valued for their functionality (perish the thought). That's why almost every car in Europe is the size of a ping pong ball. I think they would be happy if the car had one seat and three wheels.

Personally, I'll stick with smaller cars too. I'm perfectly happy driving a car that doesn't require an entire block to parallel park. And I'll feel safer knowing that I won't be able to run over other cars without feeling anything. I don't need extra wheels or a trunk that can fit an entire family. All I need is a simple car - with a place to put my fries.